


A Christmas Tradition: three Jancy scenes

by Storybook_Wolf



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 19:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storybook_Wolf/pseuds/Storybook_Wolf
Summary: My contribution to Jancy Secret Santa 2018! I went SUPER cheesy with this one, because that's what the season is all about.Nancy and Jonathan have a Christmas tradition that they maintain every year, even as their lives change in big ways.





	1. Christmas Eve, 1984

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MilitaFire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilitaFire/gifts).



‘Nance?’ said Jonathan, nudging her with his shoulder. ‘I should probably get going soon.’

‘Nope,’ said Nancy. ‘You’re not allowed to leave.’

It had been a perfect afternoon, and she didn’t want it to end. They’d spent hours in her bed … just reading and listening to Elvis Costello, because her family was home, but it was still pretty blissful. Now they were sitting side by side, leaning against her bedhead with their entangled legs stretched out, each reading their own copy of _The Age of Innocence_ (getting a head start on the next semester’s assigned reading).

‘I really do have to go,’ he said. ‘You know my family always does Christmas Eve dinner. It’s a Byers tradition: Mom cooks a turkey, and Will and I pretend it’s not half-burnt and half-raw.’ 

Nancy buried her face in his neck. ‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘I just don’t want you to leave.’ Then she had an idea. ‘Wait! There’s something I have to do while I have you here.’

Jonathan laughed softly. ‘With your mom’s strict keep-the-bedroom-door-open policy? Seems risky.’

She smirked at him as she got off the bed and opened her wardrobe to retrieve the gift-wrapped box she’d stashed in there.

That made him blush more than his own joke had. ‘What? … I feel bad. I haven’t got your present with me – I was going to drive over with it tomorrow afternoon. I’m sorry.’

Nancy crawled back onto the bed, and gave her boyfriend a soft kiss on the cheek. ‘Stop apologising all the time! It’s fine. Better than fine, actually, since it means I’ll get to see you tomorrow. But I want to give you your present now.’

Jonathan was still blushing as he took the box from her hands and carefully opened it. She noticed that he didn’t tear into the paper, but slowly levered it open where it had been taped, leaving it so pristine that it could probably be used again.

‘Oh my god, Nance – this is too much,’ he said, lifting a polaroid camera out of the wrapping.

‘No, it’s not,’ she said. ‘You are amazing boyfriend, and it is incredibly difficult to find a gift that shows you just how much I lo—how much you mean to me. How happy you make me.’

More blushing. He looked down for a moment with a small smile, then leaned forward and kissed her. ‘ _You’re_ amazing,’ he murmured against her lips.

Nancy grinned. ‘Anyway … I remembered you saying that you didn’t shoot polaroid, and I thought it might be fun.’ (There was a particular kind of _fun_ she thought they could have with an instant camera, but she was going to introduce that idea very carefully later on, when her adorably innocent boyfriend would be more receptive to it.)

‘I love it,’ he said. ‘Thank you. But you don’t need to buy me expensive presents to show me how you feel – the fact that you are actually dating me is pretty mind-blowing in itself. And this is the second year in a row you’ve given me an amazing present. I’m really behind here.’

‘Last year’s wasn’t really a present. But, since you mentioned it, I guess this is our Christmas tradition: me giving you a camera. We’re going to do this every year.’

Jonathan grinned, snaking his arms around her waist. ‘Oh yeah? Well I think we need to add a new part to the tradition: you give me a camera, and the first photo I take with it is of you. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Nancy said.

The photo that he took of her that afternoon was overexposed, and she accidentally had her eyes closed, but she still gave it pride of place on her corkboard. Her head was tilted back, her hair wild, and she was grinning broadly. It captured just how happy she was, and she knew that anyone who saw it would be able to tell exactly what she was thinking when it was taken: _I love Jonathan Byers_.


	2. Christmas morning, 1992

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan has an extra-special Christmas gift for Nancy on their visit home in 1992.

Nancy woke up to soft kisses along her neck as Jonathan nuzzled into her. She kept her eyes closed for a few moments, just enjoying the gentle tickling of his hair against her jawline, and when she opened them she was momentarily surprised to see an unfamiliar space: the spare room at Joyce and Hopper’s new house.

With all of their children now having moved away from Hawkins – Jonathan in New York, Will in his senior year at Bennington, and Jane sharing an apartment in Chicago with Max – Joyce and Hopper had moved into a smaller, more manageable place. They’d been in there for almost six months, but this room had clearly been the dumping site for unopened boxes and things they didn’t know what to do with (along with a seriously uncomfortable futon).

But in this moment, with pre-dawn light spilling through the venetian blinds and the man she loved moving his attention from her neck to her collarbone, it felt like home.

She’d been bone-tired when they’d tumbled into bed last night, exhausted from the drive. (Will had picked them up en route, and they’d taken shifts on the way-too-long-to-have-done-in-one-day drive). But now she felt energised. Battling her own instincts, she pushed Jonathan away and sat up in bed.

‘Present time!’ Leaning across him, she retrieved a box wrapped in Frosty the Snowman paper from her suitcase and presented it to him. ‘You’ll never guess what it is,’ she said, deadpan.

Jonathan grinned, and accepted it with a kiss. ‘It’s a bear trap, right?’

Last summer they’d spent a week with friends in Montauk, and Jonathan had been enamoured with the half-frame camera his old classmate Zoe had been using. Zoe joked that she mostly liked it because she saved money on film (it gave you twice as many shots as usual out of every roll), but it also took pretty decent pictures. Nancy had gotten the details from Zoe afterwards, and tracked down something similar from the classifieds in the back of one of Jonathan’s photography magazines – a second-hand Olympus Pen EE-2.

‘This is awesome!’ he said when he unwrapped it, before leaning in to give her another kiss. This time she cupped the back of his neck with both hands, to hold him into the kiss a little longer. ‘Mmm,’ he said when they broke apart, and immediately followed it with quick peck.

She was just getting warmed up, but to her disappointment Jonathan leapt out of bed and started rummaging through his duffel bag. ‘I just happened to bring some film with me.’ As he searched for the film he started emptying items out of the bag, including a small red gift box.

‘Hey, is that my present?’ she asked, holding out her hand. ‘Gimme.’

‘Not yet,’ he teased. ‘I’ve got to load the film first. This year the first photo is going to be of you opening your gift.’

Nancy groaned, only half in jest. Suddenly she felt like a little kid again, desperate to find out what Santa had left for her. ‘How about I open the present while you look for the film, and then we can re-enact it for the photo?’

‘Absolutely not,’ said Jonathan. ‘The first photo is always posed, but this year I really want a candid shot. I’m trying to capture a moment here.’

She rolled her eyes. Over the course of their relationship, she’d learned that sometimes you just had to indulge Jonathan’s artistic sensibilities.

After what felt like hours, Jonathan had loaded the film into the camera, adjusted the settings, and set up the lighting in the room to his satisfaction. Only once he was happy with everything did he hand over the box. Then he sat on the end of the bed and lifted the camera to capture his candid moment.

Nancy opened the gift box to find another, smaller box inside. It was unmistakably the type of small leather box that held jewellery, like a pair of earrings. Or – a ring? No. It couldn’t be. Not yet. They’d talked about it so many times, and it was too soon. Another couple of years down the track, they’d always said. Closer to when they were ready to start a family.

But then she opened the box, and there it was. The most beautiful diamond ring she’d ever seen. It looked antique, with tiny filigree bows set either side of the small diamond.

She felt as though all the breath had been sucked out her body. Hell, she felt as though her soul left her body for a moment. Was this really happening? She clutched her face with one hand and looked up at Jonathan, hearing the click of the shutter as he took the first photo with his newest camera. When he lowered the camera, he was smiling that irresistible half-smile, and their eyes locked.

‘I know it’s too soon,’ he said. She could see his knuckles whitening as he gripped the camera nervously. ‘And we don’t have to get married right away. Or not even soon! I’ll wait as long as you want. I just … I’m just sick of being your boyfriend.’

Nancy was still too shocked to speak, but she raised her eyebrows at that.

‘Shit, no, not like that! I mean I’m sick of _just_ being your boyfriend. It’s not a big enough word for this.’ He gestured at the space between them as the words tumbled out of him. ‘A boyfriend and girlfriend are … two 13 year olds holding hands at the movies. You mean so much to me, Nancy. You’re my best friend, you’re my family, you’re my home. The only thing better than falling asleep next to you every night is waking up next to you every morning, and I want to do that every day for the rest of my life. I love you, and I always will. So, um … I want to marry you. You don’t have to say yes, but I just wanted you to know that.’

‘Yes!’ she said. ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!’

He almost leapt across the bed. Then he kissed her, a deep and lingering kiss that felt like something brand new. She could feel their whole future in that kiss. ‘Yes?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she breathed again, gently pressing her forehead against his. ‘Did you get your photo?’

‘I did,’ he said. ‘I want to remember that look on your face forever. I love you so much, Nance.’

‘I love you too,’ said Nancy. She pushed him back onto the pillows and lay down, resting her head on Jonathan’s chest. ‘But … I don’t think we should have a long engagement. The more time my mom has to fantasise about this wedding, the more elaborate it’s going to get. We’re talking 600 guests, 12 bridesmaids, a dress the size of a small car…’

He groaned. ‘Oh my god. I didn’t even think about that. Both of our moms are going to flip out over this, aren’t they?’

‘Uh huh,’ Nancy said smugly. ‘Do you think we could persuade Will to get back in the car with us today, and drive to Vegas?’

Jonathan chuckled. ‘Seriously? I don’t want a big wedding, but I think a quickie Vegas one might be a little too tacky for me. Is there an option somewhere in the middle?’

‘Okay, so not Vegas,’ said Nancy. ‘But not Hawkins either. New York. This spring. Just us, our families, and a couple dozen friends in the garden at the Merchant House Museum.’

He laughed again, and lifted his head a little to look down at his girlfriend – no, _fiancée_. ‘You’ve got it all thought out, haven’t you? I guess your mom’s not the only Wheeler who’s into wedding planning.’

‘What, like you’ve never thought about it?’ said Nancy teasingly.

‘Are you kidding? I’ve been thinking about it since we were sixteen. I didn’t kiss you till we were seventeen, but by that point I’d been dreaming about marrying you for a year.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have an Olympus Pen ee-2. It's a pretty sweet camera.


	3. Christmas Eve, 1997

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jancy's first Christmas as parents.

Nancy felt like her brain was melting out of her ears. Over the past two days she’d gotten a total of five hours sleep (not consecutively). Every part of her body ached, and she couldn’t focus on anything for more than about sixty seconds. She was a wreck.

She thought back to all-nighters she’d pulled in college – sometimes from partying, but usually from studying – and how easy it had been to cruise through a weekend on just a few hours sleep. With enough caffeine and greasy food, her body could function almost like normal. But she was starting to realise that being 30 was very different to being 20.

(Wait, how long did it take for all the cells in your body to regenerate? Dammit, she used to know that fact, but it was gone now. Anyway, the point was that it was possible she was now, at a cellular level, a completely different person from that girl who could go from the library to a club to the diner to a classroom on just a power nap and a jumbo cappuccino.)

Of course, that girl didn’t have a tiny human relying on her for his every need. A three-month-old, 12-pound human who hated sleeping, loved screaming, and had very mixed feelings about eating.

When she was pregnant with Sam, Nancy had read every parenting book she could find, planning ahead and being confident that she would master this whole being-a-mom thing if she read all the material and mapped out exactly what to do. Unfortunately, her son had other ideas.

She’d known the importance of establishing a sleep routine early on, but instead Sam seemed to set his own schedule every day – which frequently involved crying uncontrollably unless he was being held, and only falling asleep once he’d screamed himself to the point of exhaustion.

She’d known that breast was best, and she vowed she would make sure her baby got all the nutrients that he needed to grow and thrive. But instead Sam never seemed to latch on properly, and his weight lagged behind schedule for the first few weeks. The nurses who tut-tutted judgementally about her technique didn’t help, and eventually she was forced to admit defeat and switch to formula – only to discover that Sam wasn’t too keen on that either.

She’d known that the combination of breast-feeding, healthy food and laps of Riverside Park with the baby carriage would have her back into her pre-baby shape within a couple of months. Instead, she was still wearing the shapeless sack dresses and sweats she’d worn during her pregnancy, and was always trying to hide her body from Jonathan in bed and when she was getting dressed. He’d seen her breastfeeding plenty of times (or at least attempting to), but the full catastrophe of stretch-marks, cellulite and varicose veins was too much to face. She was pretty sure she’d never again be the slim, flat-bellied girl he’d thought was so sexy. She was even more sure she’d never _feel_ sexy again.

Right now, Sam had finally dropped off in Joyce and Hopper’s spare room after a very unsettled day. She knew he could wake up at any moment, but after a little while it seemed like he was actually sleeping properly, and her head cleared enough for her to realise something: she had completely forgotten about getting a camera for Jonathan.

It was almost 10 pm on Christmas eve, and she didn’t have a present for her husband. 10 pm on Christmas eve in _Hawkins_ , for God’s sake. All the shops had closed hours ago. Was anywhere within 15 miles even open?

Trying to look calm, she slipped out of Joyce and Hop’s living room, where Jonathan and his mom were slumped on the couch, half-asleep in front of _It’s a Wonderful Life_. Hop was in the kitchen, picking at the leftovers from the Christmas dinner Joyce had served up earlier.

‘Hop, could I borrow your truck? I just need to duck out for a little while,’ she said.

He levelled a decidedly unimpressed look at her as he chewed and swallowed a forkful of turkey and stuffing. ‘Absolutely not. Did you know driving tired is just as dangerous as driving drunk? The Hawkins Police Force takes these things very seriously.’

His tone was gentle and jokey, but Nancy couldn’t help the look of devastation that she responded with.

He immediately reached out to hold her shoulder. ‘Shoot, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you. How about I drive you wherever you need to go?’

He only asked where they were headed once they were turning out of the driveway.

‘I forgot to buy Jonathan a present, so I need to go to the gas station,’ she explained.

‘No problem … I don’t know what their gift selection is like, but it’s the only place open around here, so I guess you’ll just have to improvise.’

She smiled weakly. ‘We have this tradition …’

‘Oh, the camera thing, right?’ said Hopper. ‘That’s been going for a while. How many cameras have you given him now?’

‘This year would’ve been the fifteenth,’ she said shakily. ‘If I hadn’t screwed up.’ And that’s when the tears that always seemed to be right there, laying in wait, finally started to flow.

It was mortifying; she hated people seeing her like this. But Hopper simply pulled over to the side of the road, turned off the engine, and put his arm around her.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, her sobs the only sound filling the car while he stroked her back. It was nice – Hopper was so much larger than her that it felt cosy and safe to be held by him. He always acted so gruff, but not-so-deep-down he was a big softy. For a long time she’d thought of him as being like some kind of cartoon grizzly bear – a mental image that had never been quite the same since she’d overheard Will’s date to her wedding say ‘Oh wow, your stepdad is such a _bear_.’ (That guy hadn’t lasted too long.)

Eventually, Hopper broke the comfortable silence. ‘I hadn’t said anything, because I figured a new parent probably doesn’t want to hear other people’s horror stories, but Sara didn’t sleep for more than two hours at a stretch until she was eighteen months old. I was a zombie pretty much that whole time – and I was carrying a loaded gun at work every day! Jesus, it’s a miracle nothing happened. Having a baby is terrible. I mean, it’s wonderful, but mostly it’s terrible. Everything is just so _hard_. But it does get better. And the two of you are going to nail it. Sam’s a hell of a lucky kid to have you guys as parents.’

*

At 4:12 am on Christmas morning, Nancy woke to Sam’s thin, desperate cries. Anyone hearing him would think he hadn’t eaten in a week, but in fact his last feed was less than 90 minutes ago. She held him, gently rocking him in her arms while Jonathan dashed to the kitchen to warm the bottle.

When he returned, he cuddled up just behind her shoulder so she could rest against him as she fed Sam, who actually seemed to be enjoying his meal for once. Jonathan wrapped one arm around her, his fingers gently stroking her waist, and pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead. Hopper was right: having a baby was terrible, but in moments like this it was also wonderful.

‘Merry Christmas, baby,’ she whispered.

‘Are you talking to Sam or to me?’ asked Jonathan.

‘Both,’ she said. ‘Is it too early for presents?’

‘Oh …’ Jonathan paused for a moment. ‘… I guess not? I mean, it is Christmas morning, even if it feels like the middle of the night.’

‘In that case, can you hold the bottle for one second?’ With Jonathan holding the bottle in place, she had one hand free to reach across to the bedside table and pull a white plastic shopping bag from the drawer. ‘Sorry about the wrapping,’ she said as she handed it to Jonathan. He laughed and opened the bag to reveal a disposable camera. ‘And I’m sorry it’s such a shitty camera,’ she added. ‘It was the only one they stock at the Fair Mart. It was either that or a cassette of _Yanni Live at the Acropolis_.’

‘I love it,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘And I love you. This is perfect: I can take photos of my two favourite people, but I won’t have yet another camera taking up space in our apartment.’

‘See, this is why you should go digital!’ Nancy said. ‘That way you wouldn’t even need film, so we’d actually have room in our refrigerator for food.’

‘Ugh, no way. Digital photos are so soulless! There’s no texture, no grain, no personality.’

‘You know all the magazines and newspapers are going to go digital eventually, right? And I’m sure the technology will keep getting better, so you’ll get your _texture_ and _grain_ and _personality_.’

‘Hmpf,’ said Jonathan. ‘Fine, when the technology gets better, I’ll get one.’

‘Good,’ said Nancy. ‘So I know what to get you next Christmas.’

Jonathan was quiet for a few moments. ‘Nance? I have a confession. I … I haven’t got a present for you. I was just so stressed about getting everything together for this trip, and finishing up all my assignments so I could take the week off, and buying a million gifts for Sam even though he has literally no idea what’s going on. I know there’s no comparison between everything you do and what I do, but I am just so exhausted, all the time, and I feel like my brain is only functioning at about 30% these days. And I see you being the most amazing mother day in and day out, working so hard for Sam, and meanwhile I have literally no idea what I’m doing.’

Nancy laughed.

_He’s such a natural!_ How many times had she heard that in the past three months? From her mom, her friends, Mrs Ramos downstairs, the nurses at the hospital…they all agreed that Jonathan was born to be a dad. She wasn’t surprised, of course: he was the most caring, nurturing person she’d ever met. She was grateful, too: she was lucky to be sharing this with someone who was so good at it, and Sam was lucky to have Jonathan for a father. But there’d been times when it stung to compare her litany of failures with the way Jonathan had effortlessly become the world’s best dad. But it turned out that he’d been feeling just as lost and helpless as her this whole time.

‘I don’t need a present,’ she said, snuggling into him a little closer. ‘I’ve got everything I need right here. Do you think you could take a photo of the three of us with that crappy little camera?’

The Wheeler-Byers family perched on the end of the bed, facing the mirror above the dresser, and Jonathan snapped a picture of their reflection. Nancy’s hair was a mess, Jonathan’s shirt was stained with spit-up, they were both bleary-eyed, and Sam had started to scream again. But it was their first ever family Christmas photo, and Nancy knew it would always be one of her favourites.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to @Jancys_Blue_Bayou for feedback on the original headcanon!


End file.
